The Tempest
by Vintage Ace
Summary: The Tracy family saves lives. They go out into the storm when no one else is able to carry on and they face the wrath of nature simply to aid people they've never met. As Gordon falls face first in love with a girl that is practically family, he and his brothers quickly realize that some storms need to be conquered by the victim and the victim alone. Gordon/OC No super angsty Alan.
1. Chapter 1

**So...I don't have a magnificent track record with Thunderbirds stories, but the third time's the charm. I hope. This is just a trial chapter to give you a taste of what's to come. If you've read my other stuff you'll know I don't like writing the same old boy meets girl stories; I jump right into the character's everyday lives. I pretend as if my OCs are already established in the setting and dynamic and it seems to work for me. I just got this idea and have a vague grasp of where it is going. Your feedback will decide everything really :)**

**I will be taking some liberties with the characters and themes etcetera. Nothing too major I promise.**

**Alan = 18  
****Gordon = 24  
Virgil = 25  
John = 27  
Scott = 29**

* * *

**Prologue**

The Lost Girl

The sea was calm beneath her fingertips. A still energy that surrounded her, embraced her. Breathing softly through her nose, the girl lulled herself into a meditative state. Her board bobbed. A pulse. Motion. The sea came to life beneath her hands. She opened her eyes to the horizon – the rising sun – and paddled out toward the oncoming swell. Silence. One breath. Two breaths. She gripped her board and turned. The water pulsed and grew as she paddled with the forming mass. And then she was standing, free to let the tide take over the burden of carrying her weight for her. Barefoot, in the midst of that which no man could conquer, the girl was free.

Tracy Island was sweltering that summer and Gordon couldn't help but think the girl riding waves wasn't helping the situation. He followed her to the beach. She awoke before the sun and he had watched her for hours, not wanting to join in and break her moment's peace, daily ablution. She was a mystery to him from the moment they met. Every aspect of her enthralled him. He had her memorized and took mental notes whenever they were together cataloguing her likes and dislikes, the subtle color changes in her eyes, the differences between her nervous smile, her sad smile, her happy smile and the smile she reserved for those she truly loved. His favorite – the smile she reserved for him.

Gordon's mouth went dry as she pulled her lithe form up from its idle position and into motion. His eyes were transfixed by the grace with which she handled herself, the soft power held beneath her smooth skin, the elegance that balanced her form steadily on her board. A hard object hit the ogling man on the back of his head, pulling him out of his reverie and reaching for the aching wound. Scowling, Gordon whipped his head around and was met with the smirking form of one Caleb Fischer. Feeling his cheeks stretch uncomfortably at the smile that crossed his face, the second youngest Tracy brother hopped up out of the sand to embrace the man he endured the rude-awakening of the military with.

"Fischer!"

Gordon clapped his shoulder and reflexively glanced back at the waves for the girl. He focused back on his friend before doing a double take. The girl was gone. The once calm sea had grown a little more violent in the short moments he'd turned his head. She was lost somewhere beneath the tumult. His stomach clenched, heart pounding in his head, he pushed down the panic induced adrenaline rush before calling out her name. Hoarsely his voice broke the morning's silence. He yelled. Panic swelled with the waves. Caleb joined in as they both jogged toward the water, removing their shirts. She didn't respond. They dove in. Fighting the current, fighting their fear, fighting the burn in their lungs that told them to rise for air, they looked for the lost girl.

* * *

**Tell me honestly what you think. Should I continue?** **I know its not very clear. If I continue it will become less confusing. I promise.**

**Thanks,**

**Lexi**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey sorry it's been forever. I haven't been receiving emails from FanFiction lately so I hadn't even realized people were reading this. I'm a bit out of practice, but as I get further into the mindset my chapters will get better and longer, I assure you.**

* * *

**The Tempest**

Returning to The Cave

Boredom. That's what Mia felt as she sunk lower in the uncomfortable plastic chair the university furnished their lecture halls with. The only thing worse than a philosophy class, was one with some sixty other students and zero room for discussion whatsoever. The professor droned on and on about Plato's allegory of the cave, not even pausing once for dramatic effect or encouragement of original thought. The sad thing was Mia actually liked philosophy. She'd read Plato's Republic three times. Gautama Buddha was her main man, number one pal. When she was fifteen she stole Scott's copy of the White Noise and now seven years later she had yet to confess to the crime, preferring to keep the work hidden in her underwear drawer in case the man got suspicious. He blamed John, anyway.

Uninterested in the monologue that was occurring before her, but unwilling to get up and walk out like the last three people had done, Mia settled for inconspicuously reading her tarnished copy of Hannibal Rising beneath her tiny wooden desk. God she wanted to leave, but couldn't bring herself to do so. It wasn't the professor's fault that he got stuck with six dozen bored undergrads for students and while there was a chance he could care less if she walked out and dropped the class; Mia couldn't help but remind herself that there was also a chance that he would care. So she read and waited for him to call an end to her endless state of ennui.

Her phone buzzed quietly in her pocket and noting that there were only ten more minutes of the lecture to go, she flipped the cheap piece of junk open to a text from Scott asking what she was up to. She replied with a simple _Borgmein's lecture hall_ and a sad face. She followed it up with a more chipper _ten minutes to freedom!_ before flipping it shut and placing the phone in her pocket under the shrewd glares of her peers.

Walking out of the hall and into the crisp air of winter had Mia on cloud nine. Finals were in a week and then she was free for the rest of December and early January and she knew exactly how she would spend the holiday, catching waves on Tracy Island. She weaved expertly through the congregated students and made her way toward the street. Her breath puffed lightly out in front of her as she walked toward Old Campus at a brisk pace. She'd forgotten her coat back in Saybrook and she did not plan on freezing to death any time soon.

* * *

Tunnel vision – that's what Mia had when she needed something, all else faded to nothingness around her as she hustled through the gate that guarded her temporary home. She didn't hear the man shout her name. She didn't hear the wise cracks from his brother and best friend and she didn't notice him come up behind her until he had grabbed her 'round the waist and squeezed her to his chest. Mia screeched and swung her arm, landing an elbow in the offending person's gut causing him to groan and drop her unceremoniously onto the cold, December hardened ground.

Mia whipped her head around to tell the attacker off and was met with the bemused blue gaze of one Scott Tracy and the laughter of John and their adoptive – for all intensive purposes – brother Andy. She let out a huff and tried to placate the former Air Force pilot with an innocent smile and doe eyes. The eldest Tracy just rolled his eyes and grabbed her hand to pull the girl to her feet.

"Well…what can I say? I learned from the best." She said cheekily before ushering them into the building with her. "It's freezing out there. How you guys can wear just jeans and T-shirts in this crappy weather is beyond me. International resc-mfremfwwee"

"Do you understand the meaning of the term secret, kid?" John asked warily, removing his hand from her mouth.

"Oh chill you lot, nobody is paying attention. Half of them are too hung over to see straight let alone eavesdrop."

Mia huffed at the three men and left them behind her, staring at each other in empathy. She never got boring that was for damned sure.

The guys stayed in New Haven for two days. Hanging out with Mia whenever she was not overloaded with studies, which was practically never. Mostly they were there in those moments that she was near collapse from working herself too hard and in need of sustenance. If there was one thing the Tracy men were good at, it was sniffing out good food. Mia usually stuck to the dining halls as her meal plan was already paid for on scholarship and she didn't have much money to spare.

Before long, however, they had to move on to New York. Scott and John had business at the main office for their father and Andy had an aunt upstate that he'd promised to see in his time on leave, which this time around was three months long. They parted with the promise to meet at the Tracy's hanger at LaGuardia in a week and a half.

* * *

Gordon was on edge. No, Gordon was a wreck. It had been a year since he'd last seen his best friend and they hadn't exactly parted on the best terms. Actually, they parted on downright shitty terms. He paced the floor of his father's office with a sort of crazed determination, anxiety feeding the flame to madness as he mulled over every possible way his first time speaking to Mia in a year would go.

Virgil sat at the piano, tapping his fingers lightly on the keys but not playing a sound. When Gordon was like this it was best that no one provoke him and sound of any kind would set him off. Meanwhile, Fischer lounged amusedly on the couch watching his old comrade - the most fearless soldier he knew -worry himself over the girl who seemed to have everyone wrapped around her little finger.

He wondered if she even knew the effect she had on this family of no nonsense, battle hardened men. He'd seen her soften Jeff Tracy himself into a whole other amiable person, seen her pull John Tracy's gaze from the stars and Scott's gaze from his duties. She was Virgil's spazzy muse and Alan Tracy's anchor – his temper simply did not exist in Mia's presence. The girl was a miracle worker and she worked miracles – Caleb believed – because she did not know the power she held.

What Caleb found most intriguing, however, was the mess of his best friend before him. With Gordon Tracy, Mia did not work miracles; she created a monster. The second youngest brother was a player by reputation; women flocked to him whether for his purple heart, his swimmer's body, his gold medal or his dad's money Fischer couldn't be sure – he'd heard every reason and attractive quality from countless admirers including the Tracy man himself. Gordon could have essentially anything and anyone he wanted, but he couldn't have Mia and she was the only thing Gordon needed. The fact was painfully obvious to the man on the couch, but everyone else seemed oblivious to what was plainly laid out before them.

The call came in from Tracy One, informing the room's occupants of the plane's descent onto the island. Gordon stopped pacing, possibly even stopped breathing at the update and then he started to sweat. The girl would be the death of him, of that Caleb was sure.

* * *

"Mia, buckle up please," John scolded the pacing girl from his place by the window.

It was as if she couldn't hear him at all; she just worried her lip some more and paced once more down the aisle of the plane.

"Hey guys we're clear for landing, buckle up if you're not already." Andy called over the intercom though he didn't need to. The cockpit door was wide open and they were all able to converse comfortably without raising their voices over the roar of the engine, but he said it for deaf Mia's sake as she made her way back up the aisle.

With a frustrated sigh, John stuck out his arm and wrapped it around the distracted girl's waist, effectively shoving her into the spot across from him, buckling her in himself despite her cry of resentment. She leaned back in her seat, arms crossed and pouting at the older blonde man. Indignant warm hazel eyes met determined ice blue ones as the plane dropped altitude in its final approach to the island.

She broke away first and looked out the window at the clear blue surf and soft, fine white sands.

"Weezer would have loved this place…"

She looked down at her fisted hands and then back up at John. She worried her lip once more before looking out the window.

"How…" she paused and shook her head. "How are things down there?" She motioned toward the main house by the cliff.

"Good. We all missed you, you know. A year's a long time." He sighed at her anxious expression and looked out the window.

"He missed you most, I think." Her eyes snapped up at him eagerly waiting for him to continue, but wheels touched the tarmac before he could say anymore. She clasped her hands together and nervously squeezed once more – suddenly the trip didn't seem like such a bright idea.

* * *

**Comments? Criticisms? Suggestions? Dime, amigos.**

**Gracias! (I don't know the shortcut for the upside down exclamation point thing...)**


	3. Chapter 3

**So it was late when I titled the last chapter – I don't know if any of you are familiar with the allegory or not, but when I referenced her returning to the cave, I wasn't suggesting the Tracy's were ignorant just that Mia is more worldly since her last departure from Tracy Island. As the story continues you'll see what I mean. Also, super tiny sarcastic remark about the French in this chapter – no offense intended.**

**BTW stand alone lines in italics are character thoughts.**

* * *

**The Tempest**

Sitting in the Electric Chair

The long walk to the hanger felt more like a trip to the electric chair to Gordon. The corridor seemed to stretch thinner and longer before him and each booted, flip flopped and tennis shoed step against the cool concrete floor echoed around him, tapping in his ears like a cacophony of nervous ticks.

The rest of the family strode ahead of the slowing man, oblivious to his train of thought as they rushed to greet the new arrivals. Gordon reached up, tugged at the collar of his shirt, stopped and turned around as if to go back to the house; then he shoved his hands in his pockets, took a breath and cursed himself.

_For God's sake Gordo, be a man!_

He shook his head and turned back to catch up with the others, deliberately ignoring the knowing look Fischer threw his way.

On the plane, Mia was not much better. Actually, some would argue she was much worse than the man just outside her window. The post-flight checks had long since finished and she could hear Andy already hauling the luggage out of the compartment; Scott had lowered the steps and John stood up, ready to be on land once more.

"You coming?"

Mia wrung her hands in her lap, staring ahead of her into empty space trying to get herself up and out of Tracy One before her cowardice became too apparent.

"Mnhuh…"

John sat back down and took her hands, forcing Mia to meet his eyes.

"People have fights all the time, kid. Trust me, he missed you."

He pulled her out of her seat and toward the cabin door; before she could process what was happening he had her halfway down the steps and within plain sight of the entire group that had congregated. Unable to dig in her heels and run away, her eyes flitted over face to familiar face. Smiling and nodding at Jeff, Mia took it one stair step at a time, scrunching her nose playfully at TinTin before her eyes rested on him.

Gordon Tracy had changed. Where there once had been smooth, clean shaven skin he now had a slight five o'clock shadow; she bit the inside of her cheek as nervous butterflies burst inside her stomach. His skin was tanned from days spent in the sun, and his arms and broad chest showed just how active his lifestyle was. But what really got her – what got her every time – were his eyes, deep green and sparkling with mischief. Those eyes that rested so gently on her now could be equally smoldering and passionate when provoked, she knew. Mia loved Gordon Tracy's eyes, but then she remembered the last time they were directed at her and faltered.

Gordon watched as she carefully stepped down from the plane, seemingly distracted by something only her mind could see. He shifted his weight from foot to foot in anticipation of coming face to face with this girl – this woman - feeling more like a little kid than a grown man. He watched as she happily, if a bit absentmindedly, pulled everyone into hugs and kisses. She laughed and chatted idly with the group, not once glancing his way. And then suddenly they were the only ones left, him and her. Everyone else began to walk back toward the main house for lunch, John and Caleb occasionally throwing glances back at the awkwardly standing pair.

She coughed and worried her lip unconsciously and Gordon couldn't help but smile at the nervous habit.

"Keep that up and it'll fall off."

His deep voice startled Mia out of her ponderings and caused her to draw blood - she released her injured lip with a hiss and blushed at her smirking best friend.

"Hi" She blurted out, meeting his eyes up close for the first time in a year.

"Hi" He broke her gaze and raised his hand to the back of his neck awkwardly. "Umm…we should…Kyrano made lunch…" He gestured behind him with his thumb.

She nodded jerkily and they both set off. Silence fell between two of the chattiest people in the world as they made the long walk down the corridor to the chair – serving out their sentence together.

* * *

Lunch lasted long and loud as the group settled in around the table. Warm tropical air brushed past the open floor to ceiling doors and windows that walled the Tracy kitchen. The pool water rippled and lapped gently against the offending breeze and the cicadas sang their odd song in the trees around the main house. Listening half heartedly to the conversation around the table – the buzz of voices like the deep hum of an engine – the girl couldn't help but feel herself settle into the routine that was the Tracy family.

This was home, or it used to be. She could tell you every tick and quirk of every person that sat at the table next to her. She could tell you about Jeff and how he liked to come off as a hard, strict military man to the public, but was actually gentle and nurturing father when in the comfort of his home. His sons came first always – they were his pride and joy.

Then there was Scott, eldest Tracy brother and heir to the industry his father had slaved over throughout his youth; he was both commanding officer and go to business man. Scott knew how to order, maneuver, cajole, console and fight with his gloves off, and no matter how kind his smile was, no matter how convincing his laugh and relaxed his gaze, the eldest brother was always on alert. What Mia didn't know was if that was just the man's way of being, if it had been pounded into his brain in the military or if it was an unfortunate part of the job he currently had, but as long as she was on his good side she couldn't bring herself to concern. Scott was just Scott and that personality – along with his alum status - was what had gotten her into Yale... well, aside from her prior academic slavery of course.

John, Mia smiled to herself. John was a sweetheart. He was the one who sat up with her every night during thunderstorms when they had been younger. John, always quiet and reserved in his approach to everything, was the man who encouraged her to pursue her love of languages and writing. This man was the gentle soul of the Tracy family – she'd never seen him so much as swat a fly. Since her fight with Gordon, he was the one she always called first with news – good, bad or otherwise – and he kept her updated on any rescues that were going on at any time…unless of course he was in the middle of one.

A bark of laughter cut into Mia's reverie, pulling her attention away from the blonde and back to the conversation at the table. She took another bite of her burger before looking to Virgil to hear the tail end of his story.

"He winced and shot straight up out of his seat" The middle Tracy took another drink. "I couldn't tell if he was going to cry or explode – Alan's face was so red."

At the head of the table Jeff sighed to himself with a breathy laugh as he remembered the day Virgil recounted. A couple snorts sounded around the table.

"I think at one point he hopped around on one foot, trying to swallow." Scott cut in.

"I thought I was going to cry, it was so funny. He didn't speak to me for two days after that," Gordon smiled to himself, before glancing swiftly at a curious looking Mia.

"Why was he pissed at _you_?" Andy cracked. "He was the one that wanted to taste your beer!"

"Ah, you know how the kid gets. He could never take a joke, especially when it was directed at him. Plus it was right after that big explosion at Wharton's – you know the one he got blamed for. He was in a bad place. But it was fucking hilarious." Scott grinned wide and shook his head, ignoring the warning look his father sent him.

Jeff Tracy didn't approve of his sons cussing around women. He'd told them time and again not to, but then he'd heard words come from Mia that would've made the foulest sailor blush and gave up any hope of containing his out of control, fully grown offspring.

Mia reached over her plate for her drink when a hand suddenly shot out and wrapped around the neck of the bottle. Looking up to see one Scott Tracy raising her beer to his lips, Mia glowered at his taunting expression, but didn't rise to the bait. Instead, she chose to take advantage of his drinking her beer to reach across the table and snatch his glass, taking a long swig before he could warn her.

The scorch of straight tequila consumed the inside of her mouth as the girl fought to not spray the drink out onto the table. She pressed her lips tight and turned her head to the side, hoping no one had noticed her eyes starting to water. She suddenly felt very uncomfortably hot. Scott chuckled to himself as he watched the younger girl struggle to keep a straight face, taking another swig of her beer.

"It's best if you just swallow now, Mia. Get it over with - like a band aid."

She nodded, squinting before gulping it down. The fire spread through her body and she coughed once, twice, three times to get the feeling out. It was definitely not the cheap stuff, Mia groused to herself.

"Mother of God. Scott, honestly tequila already? It's like noon."

He just smiled and nodded at her before placing the beer down on the table and turning back to his burger and the conversation that had started between his brothers over torque or something, she didn't really care. With the reminder of the fire in her throat, her eyes were fixed on the pool waiting just outside. It was the one place she hoped she wouldn't end up and the one place she knew she inevitably would.

A warm, cozy feeling settled inside of the girl and she couldn't help but feel as if she were vibrating. Glancing back at the others, she wondered for a brief moment if they felt the same way; was it the island heat? Then she looked at Caleb.

Now, yes, the man was attractive, but he was hardly Adonis or anything. Yet in that moment she couldn't help but admire his olive complexion, his high cheek bones, his lean muscle and honeyed laughing eyes. Shaking the thoughts out of her head, Mia couldn't help but feel lighter – definitely the alcohol then.

She glanced at Gordon who was looking at her in what seemed to be a fair amount of interest and smiled. If she thought Caleb was good looking, Gordon was God. Unconcerned by her once best friend's stare, she ogled him for who knows how long before the man across from her cleared his throat. She snapped her head back to look at Scott who scrunched his brow.

"You okay, kid?"

"Oh, Scotty boy I am great."

He rolled his eyes and nodded at the buzzed girl before him, pushing the rest of his fries toward her.

"Eat those."

She huffed, but did as he said wondering just how much of her attraction to the still staring Tracy to be the results of the tequila.

* * *

Mornings were not her thing. Mia woke to the sound of tropical birds cackling through her window – yes they were cackling, the sick bastards. The sun rose early on the island and after two hours of tossing and turning beneath its rays the girl hopped out of bed. Through half closed lids, the pouting twenty-two year old padded down the guest hallway and down the stairs one thudding step at a time. She hadn't bothered to check her reflection in the mirror while she brushed her teeth nor did she bother note that she was not in fact back in her dorm room in Connecticut - something that should have been obvious given the great lack of tropical plumage in the general New England area.

Instead, Mia followed her nose, sock clad feet sliding across the kitchen floor too lazy to lift off the ground. With great determination, she heaved her short frame up onto the counter by the coffee pot and poured a river of the caffeinated liquid into a jumbo mug, careful to fill it to the brim. Leaning against the cabinets – ignoring the way the wooden edges dug into her spine - Mia gulped the beverage with the gusto of a dying man and, feeling the buzz finally set in, opened tired eyes to meet the raised eyebrows and smirks on the faces that congregated around the kitchen table.

Mia was definitely not in New Haven.

"Hello sleeping beauty."

Mia shot Andy a glare that had the licensed physician and Air Force medic hastily turning back to his bacon and eggs.

"What are you all so chipper about?" She groused. "What are you doing up anyway?"

"It's six a.m. Mimi. We've been up for hours."

"Caleb sweetie if you care at all for your reproductive future I suggest you ditch giving me a stripper name."

"It's not a stripper name," he smirked. "It's French."

"One in the same. Besides, French or stripper, I know someone," she gave him a pointed look "who could not afford me."

One of the guys chuckled - probably that damned pianist.

"Who's to say I'm looking? I can get anyone I want at any time, beautiful. We marines have quite the following if I do say so myself…" He sniffed with fake arrogance and smiled at the girl across from him, ignoring the taunts the pilots and the green beret threw his way. "And, anyway, that outfit of yours could've fooled me, Flashdance."

Mia's eyes widened and took in the faces at the table – really processed them this time. Scott and Andy were diligently shoveling forkfuls of food into their mouths, not looking up to so much as acknowledge the world around them, much less her. Virgil watched her silently, coffee mug tipped up to cover his mouth, red blotches on his cheeks and ears. John just smiled a big shit eating grin at her before shaking his head and turning back to the paper in his hands – feigning interest in the stock market, most likely. Caleb leaned back in his chair, exaggeratedly ogling her from his spot next to the eldest Tracy brother.

Feeling her neck heat in embarrassment, Mia swallowed - mouth dry - and forced herself to look down at her attire, wracking her brain for some memory of what she wore to bed the night before. What she saw was horrifying.

Why hadn't she just looked in a mirror? Well, she wasn't exactly a morning person and she hadn't been thinking clearly – she had forgotten that she was even on Tracy Island to begin with. She squeaked awkwardly much to the amusement of the men around the table and made to hop off the counter, tuck tail and run back up to her room so she could change and never show her face again, but a sound from the doorway grabbed her attention. Turning her head, Mia came face to face with a wet haired, shirtless, Speedo clad Gordon…and she was wearing only his shirt.

Unwilling to sit under his surprised scrutiny any longer, Mia sprinted back to her room as quickly as she possibly could while tugging at the bottom of his old dress shirt, hoping that it covered her ass all the way. She couldn't be sure – shock had numbed her of any thinking skills that could've told her how to handle a situation like that. Sometimes she hated the fact that she had so few girl friends.

* * *

Gordon Tracy didn't know what to expect next from the changed woman that was staying in his house. He'd been there with her through thick and thin, and while, yes he had almost single handedly ruined any chance of them regaining their once close friendship, he couldn't help but want to go back to the way things were.

She was beautiful. Her hair had grown out and laid in waves at her waist – thick brunette locks that he wanted to tangle his hands into and hold onto forever. Her ever changing hazel eyes lit anxiously whenever she looked at him and all he wanted was for her to look some more, if only because he couldn't tear his eyes away either.

He hadn't commented when he saw her take a gulp of Scott's drink at lunch the day before, choosing not to antagonize their already precarious relationship by teasing her about her puckered face and watering eyes. He smiled at the memory, seeing her expression when she realized just what his brother had been drinking. That moment had been strangely endearing.

Mia was still as short as he remembered, at least that much remained the same. The top of her head rested just below his chin; he'd always reveled in the way she fit perfectly against him, something he would never, ever say aloud to anyone. Not even Alan.

Now, as Gordon stretched at the edge of the pool watching the sun peak above the horizon he tried to imagine how the two could salvage their near irreparable relationship. He thought back to his own harsh words and the hurt in her eyes and felt as if he were drowning. One year had passed and the image of her face as she stepped away from him was still so vivid.

365 days since she boarded Tracy One and flew out of Gordon's life, and for each day that passed he swam an extra lap relishing in the burn of his muscles and the pounding of his heart.

With a breath, Gordon dove in. Splitting the water like a knife, he let the sounds muffle around him, let the cool blue salt water of the pool embrace his body with the compassion of a beloved companion, he moved lithely through – an expert in this domain. Here, he was keeper and king. Here, he ruled with a gentle sharpness that had this crisp element parting before him as he performed his daily ablutions.

Two hours, the man swam non-stop. And from his office window, Jeff Tracy silently watched his son move through his routine exercise. The patriarch had known something was bothering his son for a while; he could see it in the way the young man carried himself, in the way every once in a while his eyes filled with regret and he sighed as if the world rested on his shoulders. The father guessed that in some ways it did. In only 24 years Gordon had seen more life, more tragedy, more struggle than many a man his senior.

The once little boy was a walking miracle – of course this was seen in the biased eyes of a proud father – and he still bore the scars of his struggle. The long mark that jerked its way angrily across his freckled back posed as a reminder of all that was precious and oh so easy to lose in life. The clock struck six and Gordon, as if directed by some higher power, pulled himself out of the pool, dried himself and headed toward the kitchen for his morning juice. The day's concoction was kale, pear, spinach, carrot, apple and ginger if Jeff remembered correctly – nasty stuff that was. The older man winced at his son's preferred morning beverage before turning away from the window and toward his computer screen where Brains waited for his attention, giving a full report from his place on Five. Back to business as usual.

* * *

Mia sat on her bed in silence. After bolting upstairs, she'd closed the door quietly and changed into something a little more appropriate for male company – jeans and a black tank top with Dylan's face on it. Heaving out a long sigh, Mia let all the tension leave her and folded forward over herself. Letting her upper half rest in her lap, Mia's hair fell into a curtain around her face, which was dangling over her bare toes, embarrassed. Someone knocked on the door, but she didn't bother answering. She briefly wondered if she wrote a note that read _do not resuscitate _and then played dead if they would leave her alone.

She highly doubted it; Andy and Virgil were both too serious about their oaths for her own good. They'd rescue her from herself if need be and the thought terrified her. When the two medics teamed up it was like House meets Doogie meets Bones, but not the TV Bones either. More like the slightly spaced out, quirky Karl Urban version of Bones – the Bones that gave Kirk numb tongue just to be able to keep an eye on him. Virgil and Andy were that odd and formidable a pair.

The knock sounded again, but instead of waiting for an answer the person simply opened the door and stepped in, carefully shutting it behind him. Mia didn't bother looking up, having already had enough awkwardness for one day – and besides PMS allowed her a monthly dose of melodrama anyway. She was quite content to remain in her crumpled position at the foot of the bed.

"I hadn't realized you kept that shirt. I gave it to you years ago."

Oh. It was him. _Well, fuck._

* * *

**Well? Tell me what you think! Chapters are getting longer.**

**Thanks for reviewing on the last chapter JoTracy123 :D I really appreciate it.**

**~ Lexi**


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